


Don't Get It

by sadlonelyyogurt



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Parents, All character development is done through crying, Best Friends, Cheating, Crying, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Oops, Period Typical Attitudes, Sort Of, Steve Randle Needs a Hug, and so is soda, i love them a lot, like steve is amazing, stevepop, this fic is almost identical to the oher stevepop one i just wrote, well mostly just on sodas part but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlonelyyogurt/pseuds/sadlonelyyogurt
Summary: When Sodapop smiles, Steve stops breathing. Sodapop is golden and beautiful and has the kindest smile Steve has ever seen. When Steve sees Sodapop, he sees his mother, and he hates it. He hates Sodapop for being happy. On the East side, nobody smiles. Because if you’re living on the East side, you already got all the rough breaks. If you’re living on the East side, there isn’t a single thing for you to smile about.But Sodapop lives on the Eastside. Sodapop smiles every day.(I changed the title of this in case anyone's confused)
Relationships: Sodapop Curtis & Steve Randle, Sodapop Curtis/Sandy, Sodapop Curtis/Steve Randle
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> wOAH another Outsiders fanfic?? I know, I know, you're shocked out of your goddamn panty hoes. And guess what else is incredibly-not-so-surprising? It's another Stevepop fic!
> 
> It's kinda unfinished but I might add another chapter, I might not. I guess you could say the ending is ambiguous.
> 
> edit: there is a second chapter however it's still unfinished and i still don't know if i'll add more cuz i'm lazy like that.

Sodapop isn’t like anyone Steve knows. Steve lives in a trailer with his father who hates him and also a dog who probably hates him even more. His mother, who was golden and beautiful and had the kindest smile Steve had ever seen, left them without so much as a goodbye. He had trusted her completely, entirely, when she told him he was her sun and her moon and her stars.

“What about daddy?” He’d asked. “Is he your sun and your moon and your stars?” 

His mother stopped smiling for a moment, all the light suddenly dimming from her eyes. Steve didn’t want her to stop smiling. But she perked up a second later, almost as if nothing had happened. “Daddy doesn’t want to be anything to me,” she said, a little too quickly, but Steve was too young to understand that. “But I have you, so it’s okay.”

She kissed him on his forehead, and Steve forgot that she had ever been sad. 

Now, Steve doesn’t trust anyone quite so easily. She _lied_ to him, and left him, and now something is broken. Maybe it’s something that can’t be fixed. 

Steve’s father tells him it’s his fault she left. That Steve drove her away, being so needy, so greedy and naive. And Steve doesn’t trust, but he believes. He’s barely six years old, and so naive may be an appropriate word to describe him.

When Sodapop smiles, Steve stops breathing. Sodapop is golden and beautiful and has the kindest smile Steve has ever seen. When Steve sees Sodapop, he sees his mother, and he hates it. He hates Sodapop for being happy. After his mother left, Steve hasn’t been happy. He was already growing up on the wrong side of town. On the East side, nobody smiles. Not Steve’s father and not the lady next door and not the bus driver and not the cashier at the corner store and _definitely_ not Steve. Because if you’re living on the East side, you already got all the rough breaks. If you’re living on the East side, there isn’t a single thing for you to smile about.

But Sodapop lives on the Eastside. Sodapop smiles every day. 

“You smile a lot,” Steve tells him one day. “How come?”

Soda doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Because the sun is shining,” he says.

“What about when it rains?”

“When it rains,” Sodapop says, “The flowers are growing, and the world’s just so pretty.”

Steve doesn’t think the world is pretty. The world is disgusting, and ugly, and full of hatred and violence and lies. But Steve doesn’t tell Soda that, because Soda is smiling, and Steve doesn’t think he could stand it if he stopped. Steve feels drawn to this strange, happy, golden boy who smiles all the time because he thinks the world is _pretty_. Steve thinks that’s awfully sappy, but he makes friends with Soda anyway. Everyone else in their class is scared of Steve, but not Sodapop. 

At first Steve thought he was just stupid, but Sodapop isn’t stupid. He’s observant, and he’s sensitive, and he notices every little thing about everyone around him. Soda _gets_ people, he can read them like a book. Steve has never gotten people. He barely gets himself. Maybe Soda can tell, and that’s why he isn’t scared of him. The thought makes Steve self conscious.

Steve meets Sodapop’s family in first grade. Soda has a mom and a dad and two brothers, and all four of them live in a cramped little house on a dirty street in a crummy neighborhood. But when Steve sees Soda’s house, it _glows_. The houses surrounding it are shabby and dull, but whoever tends Soda’s garden is excellently skilled. The house’s paint is done perfectly, without any chipping or peeling or smudging. Inside, the couch is patched with pretty little pieces of fabric and the floor is well swept. There’s an amazing smell coming from the kitchen and when Steve gets there he sees a woman with blonde hair and red lipstick who smiles at him just like Sodapop does. 

“Well then,” she says, wiping her hands off in her apron, “Who do we have here?”

Steve feels like he’s going to cry when he sees her at first. So instead of looking at her, he focuses on the mismatched chairs, each special in their own unique way. The clock on the wall has small birds hand painted all over it. It’s an hour fast. 

“Mommy, this is Steve,” Soda says, bounding into the kitchen. Mrs. Curtis smiles at him again, softer this time. She must think Steve is shy.

“I’m not shy,” he blurts, and then feels stupid. He _isn’t_ shy, he just doesn’t like talking when he doesn’t need to. And this woman makes his throat close up and that makes him feel kind of vulnerable. Steve doesn’t like feeling vulnerable because at seven years old he’s relatively convinced that nothing can ever hurt him again. He’s wrong, but that doesn’t matter. He’s still young, he’s still naive. He has time to be wrong.

“I didn’t say you were, sweetheart,” says Sodapop’s mother. She’s confused, but she’s not judging him. Steve appreciates that. Most people judge him.

“You were thinking it,” Steve says insistently. “I just don’t like talking so much.”

“That’s quite alright, dear.” Soda’s mother moves back to the stove and continues to stir whatever she’s cooking. “Sodapop and his father do enough talking for everyone in this house.”

Steve’s supposed to laugh at that, but he doesn’t. Grown-ups think they’re real funny. Soda laughs, though, so it’s alright.

Soda’s youngest brother, Ponyboy, is only four years old. Steve hasn’t been around many little kids in his life. Ponyboy toddles into the room. He isn’t smiling like Sodapop and his mother do, but he seems to be deep in thought. Steve always thought toddlers were supposed to be dumb, but Ponyboy seems to be actually fairly inteligent. He shows his mother a picture that he drew. It looks like a collection of strange squiggles to Steve. So, maybe not _that_ intelligent. Mrs. Curtis tells Ponyboy he did a good job, which Steve wasn’t at all expecting. He almost tells them both that the picture doesn’t look like anything, but he keeps his trap shut. He doesn’t want to be scolded. Steve usually doesn’t care much if people like him or not, but this woman, this _family_ , makes him want to be liked.

Darry is Sodapop’s oldest brother. He’s ten years old, and very serious. But he’s not unhappy. He greets Steve with a curt hello and then goes upstairs to study. Mrs. Curtis says Darry’s school work is very important to him, and expresses her concerns on how he is only ten years old, he shouldn’t worry so much at such a young age.

“But he likes schoolwork,” Soda says. Steve and Soda just started getting homework. Soda was excited, he wanted to be like his older brother. Steve was curious to see what this homework thing was all about. Turns out, it’s not very exciting.

Mrs. Curtis sighed. “I suppose as long as he’s enjoying himself…”

Later, Sodapop and Ponyboy convince Darry to come out of his room. He sets down the book he was reading and agrees to play football with them. By the time they’re finished playing, Ponyboy is crying because he scraped his knee, Sodapop is trying to soothe him, and Darry is rolling his eyes. Steve is standing on the sidelines, not sure where his place is.

“This happens every _single_ time we play football,” Darry says, exasperated. “And then I always get in trouble. Mom and dad say I have to be more careful, Ponyboy’s little. But if he’s so little, he shouldn’t be playing with us.”

The way Darry talks about Ponyboy reminds Steve of how his father talks about him. Like he’s a burden. Except only a few minutes ago Darry had been congratulating the kid for making his first touchdown. Families seem complicated. Steve is almost glad he doesn’t have one. Almost.

Just as Ponyboy has begun to calm down, Darry’s face lights up at something behind Steve. “Daddy!” He says. 

Steve turns to find a man who looks not a day older than twenty coming through the door and into the backyard. Soda and Ponyboy both leap up from where they were sitting, Ponyboy having forgotten all about his injuries. Steve stands to the side, again not sure where he’s supposed to be. There are so many _feelings_ happening all at once and Steve doesn’t get it. 

Mr. Curtis greets Steve with enthusiasm, explaining that he just came home from work. When Steve’s dad comes home from work, he is angry and tired and usually the first thing he does is grab the nearest beer in sight. But Mr. Curtis is smiling just like Sodapop and his mom do, and Darry and Ponyboy, too, Steve can now see. He sees this perfect, happy little family and he wants to puke. He wants to cry. He excuses himself, thanking Mrs. Curtis for letting him stay so long.

“You aren’t going to stay for dinner?” She asks.

“Stay, Steve,” says Mr. Curtis. “You look like you could use a good bowl of soup.”

Steve flounders for a response. “I can’t,” he says, lying right to their perfect, picturesque faces. “My dad wants me home by six.” Steve feels like the scum of the Earth. He feels filled up with his useless lies, and lies hold nothing behind them, so really he is empty.

If you were to ask Steve how he and Sodapop became best friends, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He doesn’t know how it happened. There are so many better, kinder, funnier people in the world who Steve is sure Soda would have a much better time being friends with. But he doesn’t say anything because even after all the shit he’s put Sodapop through his friend still hasn’t budged an inch. It makes Steve feel pretty lucky, and also pretty undeserving. 

When Sodapop kisses him, it makes him feel even worse.

They’re in eighth grade, and it’s a school dance, and Two-Bit Matthews spiked the punch. Two-Bit Matthews is part of their sort-of-gang thing they have going on. It’s just a collection of a few boys who stick together. Two-Bit Matthews likes to have fun, and he doesn’t mind getting in trouble for it. Soda and Steve are clued into his plan, but they take some punch, anyway. It’s a bad idea.

They’re outside for some reason, laughing about a joke Steve doesn’t even remember the beginning of. He doesn’t realize at first when Soda starts kissing him, but he figures it out pretty quick. He kisses back, hard and fast, and there’s this rhythm to it, this buzz in the air and on Steve’s fingertips and Soda’s lips. He bites down on Soda’s bottom lip and the boy moans, deep and throaty and Steve’s never felt like this before. It’s not his first kiss, but it’s definitely his first good one.

“Steve,” Soda murmurs, pulling away, and Steve feels suddenly like he’s lost his source of life. Soda grins. “We’re both,” he says, starting to laugh, “We’re both _boys_.” He seems to think this is hilarious, rolling on the ground, laughing like the Joker. Steve wonders if Soda had more punch than he thought.

“Yeah,” Steve says, not getting the joke. He ponders it for a moment. Steve’s never heard of a boy kissing another boy. He’s only ever heard of a man and a woman together, it’s always been _his_ wife, _her_ husband, but never _her_ wife, or _his_ husband. Steve thinks about it a second more, but then Soda is kissing him again and at that point thinking seems like a pretty dumb idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is kinda done and basically I have no idea where I'm going with this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I no longer even know what I'm doing and I kinda just feel like writing about lesbians but also I wanna finish this... plus schools cancelled due to Corona so i have a lot of extra time. Short chapter but i don't think it will be the last one.  
> Well, don't get your hopes up actually.

Suddenly, kissing Soda has become a regular thing. Little pecks on the cheek alone in the locker room, stolen moments when there’s no one else home. Steve feels happy. He feels… _amazing_. When they’re fifteen, Soda tells Steve he loves him. Steve says it back.

 _He says it back_.

It seems insane, it seems impossible. Because the thing is, Steve isn’t sure he’s ever loved anyone before, except for maybe his mother, a long time ago. Steve doesn’t even love himself. Soda’s mother always tells the boys in their gang that you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else. Steve knows that’s bullshit. Soda makes him forget what hating himself feels like. Sodapop makes him feel like the happiest, most loved person in the world. And Steve tries his best to make Soda feel the same, he really, really tries.

But he must not have tried hard enough, he realizes later, because Soda meets a girl. Her name is Sandy, and she has the prettiest blue eyes and brightest, natural blonde hair. She’s much prettier than Steve.

When she smiles, Soda’s face lights up and he smiles back, and Steve wants to believe Soda used to look at him like that, but he’s not so sure he did. Steve _hates_ Sandy. It’s not only because Soda looks at her how Steve wants Soda to look at him, it’s because Sandy is a _girl_ . Steve has known all along, deep down, that he and Sodapop could have never lasted. Even if they hadn’t grown tired of each other eventually, it wasn’t as if they could have legally married, or even lived together without _much_ suspicion and judgement. They couldn’t have hidden a secret relationship from the gang, either. This makes Steve angry, because it isn’t fair that that’s the way things are. Steve has no one to blame except himself for falling head over heels for this beautiful boy, but he’s not very good at admitting he’s wrong. So, he blames Sandy. He blames Sandy for anything he can conceivably find to blame her for. He tries not to let it show, though, because Sodapop likes her a whole lot. But Sandy’s a smart girl. She figures him out pretty quick.

“What’s your problem with me, anyway?” She asks him one day at school. They have biology together.

“I don’t have a problem with you.” It sounds painfully unconvincing, even to Steve.

Sandy just rolls her eyes. “You do,” she says. “Just tell me and maybe we can work it out.”

“We can’t,” He says sharply, turning away from her. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Sandy does, though, and she presses on.

“Is it because you’re jealous of me?” She asks, just like that. No pause, no disgust in her voice. And the fact that it took her about a minute to guess… is he that obvious?

Steve scoffs anyway. He’s not about to spill his homosexual heart out to this girl who stole everything he loved. The only thing he loved.

“Then I’m right” Sandy says, looking pleased with herself. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Soda.” The bell rings and she’s off in a hurry, probably to go see Sodapop. Steve used to be the guy who Sodapop would wait for after class. His resentment towards Sandy only grows.

It’s on Tuesday night that someone knocks at Steve’s door. He’s immediately suspicious. No one ever comes to his house unless they’re looking for trouble. 

“Who is it?” He calls from the kitchen. His father is asleep on the couch, snoring loudly. He won’t stir for another few hours.

“It’s Soda,” calls Soda’s voice from the other side of the door. Steve curses quietly, smoothing out his clothes and running a hand through his hair. He was so not prepared for Sodapop to be showing up at his house at five o’clock on a Tuesday. “Hello?” Soda calls.

“Coming.” Steve strides to the door and opens it to find Soda standing there, smiling even if he does look slightly nervous. “What are you doing here?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he means it to.

Soda shrugs. “I wanted to see you."

“Don’t you have Sandy for your booty call now?” Steve sneers without really meaning to. He winces. He shouldn’t have said that. Soda looks away, a frown growing on his face, and Steve feels instantly ashamed. He hates it when Sodapop is upset, especially when he’s the cause of the problem. 

“Forget it,” he amends quickly. “What’s up?”

Soda clears his throat awkwardly. “I… I wanted to show you something,” he says, “If, you know, you wanna join me.”

Steve almost wants to say no. But Soda is standing there looking small and hopeful and Steve has always had a hard time saying no to Sodapop. Someday it’s going to get him in trouble. Nevertheless, he lets Soda lead him away from his house and the next thing he knows he’s at the back of the DX, slightly perturbed because he doesn’t like surprises very much, and Soda knows it. Speaking of Soda, he’s over by the wall, pushing away a few scraggly vines to expose the rickety ladder that goes to the roof. 

“I don’t get it,” Steve says.

Soda rolls his eyes dramatically. “There’s nothing to _get_. Just climb up there.”

Steve does so, albeit reluctantly. The DX isn’t a particularly tall building, but nothing is in their part of town. Steve can see everything, all the way to the towering apartment buildings in the busier part of the city. The sun sets to his left, painting everything in a golden glow. Soda appears beside him, having climbed up the ladder as well. He watches the city with a small smile on his face, and Steve can’t look away from him. The way the sun curls her hand around his cheek and brushes his nose and makes his eyes shine like a reflection on the ocean. Steve is breathless, as he so often finds himself when in the presence of his best friend. Sodapop is going to literally be the death of him. He realizes he’s staring and reminds himself he’s not allowed to do that anymore. Soda isn’t his anymore.

“Do you like it?” Soda asks eagerly. “Boss asked me to clean some stuff up here one time and then it became like my little spot. It’s just so pretty and I know Ponyboy’s the kind of person who likes this stuff but I thought you might appreciate it…” he trails off, seeming suddenly self-conscious. Steve wonders if he’s supposed to say something. 

“I actually brought you here ‘cause I wanted to talk to ya,” Soda admits sheepishly.

Steve’s not stupid. Soda wants to talk about them, and Sandy, and how he ruined everything except Steve could never think that of Soda because he’s Soda. And Steve wants to talk about it because he wants an explanation, he wants answers, he wants _something_ he can hold onto. But Steve hates talking about feelings, about things that matter, and he’s trying to convince himself that maybe he can put off this conversation just a little longer.

“Soda we… we don’t _have_ to talk.” It’s a feeble attempt, and it’s met with a head shake and a disappointed frown, like Soda knew he’d say that. Soda knows him too well.

“I think we should,” Soda says, and Steve tries not to be filled with dread like he is. “I can start, if you want.”

Steve just nods. He doesn’t even know what he wants to say, anyway. That’s a lie. He knows exactly what he wants to say, he just doesn’t think he’ll be able to say it.

Soda takes a deep breath. “I really like Sandy, Steve,” he says, and even though Steve shouldn’t have expected anything different his stomach still feels like it’s fallen right out of his ass and splattered on the hard, unforgiving roof of the DX. 

“And I like you too, man, I really do, but… but you know how it is, Steve. We can’t be together even if Sandy wasn’t in the picture.” He sighs and looks away, out at the city, out at all the possibilities they’ll never have. His voice is low and quiet as he says, “If I’m being honest, I only met her because Dally found out. She was just supposed to be a distraction.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I wasn’t gonna tell you, I knew you wouldn’t like it.” Soda turns towards him, distraught. “But Dally knows. He saw us one time and then he gave me a real talkin’ to later. Said he was gonna tell Darry, but I guess he never did.” Soda’s kind of shaking now, like he’s sad and angry and bitter at the world for screwing him over like it has. Steve knows the feeling. “He said he’d let it go and he wouldn’t tell you if I started seein’ a girl, so I did. I met Sandy and then… and then I really fell for her, I mean I think I might be in love with her and-” his voice breaks and he clasps his hands behind his head, eyes welling up with tears. Steve’s seen Soda cry a lot over the years, and he’s used to it, but he still hates it every time. But what he hates even more is that he used to know how to do this, how to comfort Soda and hold him while he cried and do all the things _friends_ were supposed to do. But now he just stands there like an idiot, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so _useless_ , more like a waste of space than he’s ever felt in his entire life. And that’s saying something.

“Soda…” he murmurs, as if it will help anything, and his friend just continues to cry, city lights reflecting in his watery eyes as the dusk melts away and night settles in for real. 

“I just don’t _get it_ , Steve,” Soda says, sounding so hopeless and distressed and Steve is sure he doesn’t truly understand but for once he feels like he _does_ get it. Steve has never felt like he gets it, that was always Soda’s thing, getting people, getting stuff, because Soda could understand so easily. It had always felt to Steve like there was some lesson in pre-school he’d missed and Soda had taken a whole composition book of notes on. And for whatever reason this newfound understanding sparks some kind of confidence in him, or maybe the anger he feels about everything has finally overcome his hopeless crush on Sodapop Curtis.

“You know, I’ve _never_ gotten it, man. There was one thing I ever felt like I understood, and that was you and me. You told me you loved me, Soda. Do you even know what that meant to me? There are so many people in your life for you to love, people who love you back. So maybe you don’t need me, but then why did you make me think you did?” 

Soda’s not looking at him, shaking his head and crying quietly. And for once in his life, Steve doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Sodapop is crying, he doesn’t care that he’s the reason. He wants to hurt him, he wants Soda to feel everything he felt and more, all the confusion and pain and despair. Steve’s never been very angry with Soda before. They’ve barely ever fought in all their ten years of friendship.

“I’ve never loved anyone except you. I’m fucking in love with you, Sodapop, and I know it’s hopeless and stupid and _wrong_ , but it’s true. I love you but you could never understand what that means to me, so I guess it doesn’t matter. You love Sandy? Fine. Just don’t come crawling back to me when she leaves you for someone faithful.”

Soda physically flinches at that, and Steve almost feels bad. But he can’t find it in himself to be even a little bit sorry. He could have torn Soda apart if he wanted to- he knows everything about him. He knows about all of Soda’s insecurities and nightmares. But Steve is just angry, and anger is just an emotion. Anger passes, and when it does he knows he would regret it if he says anything worse.

“I’m sorry,” Soda murmurs, barely a whisper. 

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Good,” he says, but in the back of his mind, he wonders what for. For leaving him? For not cutting it off when he found someone else? For ever kissing him in the first place? He turns away and climbs down the ladder, leaving Soda to sulk in his own puddle of tears. Because Steve’s done, he’s completely and totally _done_ . He’d followed after Soda like a lost puppy, he would have gone through hell and back for him. Steve knows he would have taken flames, a bullet, _anything_ for Sodapop. But someday he was going to have to let it go, and now he has. Soda isn’t going to push him around anymore because Steve’s not going to let him. 

He finds Johnny in the lot.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Not much,” he lies. “Mind if I join you?”

Johnny shrugs and puts out his cigarette, lying down on his back. It’s a vulnerable position, Steve thinks. He wonders the level of trust someone has to have to lie like that around another person. He trusts Johnny enough to, of course. 

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

Steve ponders how to phrase what he wants to say for a moment. “Have you ever stood up to someone you never thought you would? Like, you just let go and spoke your mind?”

Johnny doesn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah,” he says finally. “My dad.”

“What was it like?”

“For a second I felt so free, like I’d broken outta some kinda cage or something. And then he hit me, and I guess then I remembered he was my old man, and not Ponyboy’s.”

Steve smirks a little at that. The Curtis family is too perfect sometimes.

“Why?” Johnny asks, looking over at him with those huge brown eyes.

Steve shrugs. “No reason. Just curious.”

Steve watches the stars as Johnny’s breathing evens out next to him. After a while of pondering the constellations, he finds himself drifting off, too. For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t fall asleep thinking about Sodapop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soda and Steve hug it out, the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter's kinda short but i thought it was a nice way to end this and there's nothing more i want to add. Enjoy and tell me what you think! 
> 
> (Also i would like to thank Alex, who's commented on the last 2 chapters, it actually means the world to me thank you so much)

“Sandy’s gone.”

“I know.”

Soda shuffles over and sinks down to the floor next to him, pulling out a cigarette. Soda hardly ever smokes, but Steve had known he was about to. When he gets his emotions all pent up like they are, he usually tries to solve the problem with a smoke or two. 

“I’m sorry, Soda. Honest.” Steve means it. Sandy may have taken his place, but without her he may have never started living for himself. And she was a real nice girl. Soda deserves someone like her, especially everything he’s been through. Everything he was still going through now, with Ponyboy missing and Darry taking it so hard.

“It just-” Soda’s voice breaks- “It fuckin’  _ sucks _ man.” He’s not crying, but he’s near it. Steve wonders if it would be inappropriate to put an arm around him. After a few seconds of silent debate, he decides against it.

“It’s pro’bly what you felt like.” Soda laughs a little at that, shaking his head like he can’t believe himself, but there’s no real humor behind it.

Steve sighs. “Yeah, it kinda is.”

They sit in silence, watching the smoke rise into the gray of the sky. It’s a shitty day. It matches the mood of how Steve’s been feeling recently.

“You know, she asked me to run away with her. I said no, obviously.”

Steve turns to look at him, surprised but not enough to show it. “You could've gotten outta this shithole,” he says after a moment. “Away from this whole mess of a town.”

Soda just shakes his head. “I couldn’t leave Darry and Ponyboy. Especially not right now.”

Steve’s never been able to understand Soda’s devotion to his family, but he knows Soda would do anything for them. Even let go the girl he loves. If Soda had asked Steve to run away with him a year ago, Steve would have said yes without a second thought. He might still, even now, but he’s not sure if he would be doing it for Sodapop or for himself. There’s nothing in this town for him except the gang, and right now it’s practically falling apart.

“I loved her a lot, Steve,” he says.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I fucked everything up for us. I really am. Things are different now, I guess, but you’re still my best friend.”

He finally turns his head to look at Steve, his eyes hopeful for the response he wants. He wants Steve to say he thinks Soda was his best friend, too. And Steve still cares about Soda, he still really does want what’s best for him, but they’ve grown apart and there was no denying it. Their relationship isn’t the same as it was, there’d been this trust and now it’s gone. Steve isn’t mad anymore, or even resentful, but Soda isn’t his best friend. Steve doesn’t have a best friend.

At Steve’s silence, Soda turns his gaze down to the ground. “Golly, Steve,” he mutters. “I didn’t think you’d still be mad.” It could have been annoyance, or bitterness, but Steve thinks Soda sounds more sad than anything.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and focuses on keeping his voice level. “You hurt me bad, Soda, but I ain’t mad at you. Things just aren’t the same with us.”

Soda nods, albeit slightly reluctantly. “Sometimes things take more than a few ‘I’m sorrys’ to fix. I can’t ever seem to get that.”

“It’s okay.” Steve pauses for a moment, wondering if what he wants to say next is something Soda needs to hear. In the end he decides not to overthink things. “I used to think you understood everything, Soda. Like there was nothing you didn’t get. I kinda worshipped you for it.” He snickers at himself, still partly ashamed that he’d ever been so  _ dumb _ . “I realized, though, that you make mistakes all the time, and you’re not perfect, and you’re just as human as me.” Steve still isn’t sure how he’d overlooked Soda’s faults for so long. 

“Our relationship wasn’t  _ healthy _ , Soda, because I was happy but I never felt like I was your equal. I always looked up to you, when I should’ve been lookin’ you right in the eyes. I loved you, and I think I still do, but I can’t ever go back to how things were. You dig?”

Soda just nods again, sniffling. A few tears slip from his eyes, but he isn’t crying hard yet.

“I just wish this could all stop,” he says. “I want things to go back to how they used to be… before mom and dad-” he hiccups, shoulders shaking and this time Steve doesn’t hesitate to pull Soda into his side. Soda buries his head in Steve’s shoulder and cries for a few minutes, sputtering incoherently and soaking Steve’s shirt with tears. He picks up a few words, like Sandy, love, Ponyboy and Johnny. He lets Soda cry it out and then waits until he’s stopped shaking before moving to card a hand through his hair. He keeps quiet, because Soda doesn’t like to talk for a while after he’s been crying. 

“Okay,” Soda says, moving so that he’s still tucked under Steve’s arm but he’s turned so they sit side by side. It’s his way of saying that he’s done.

“You gonna be alright?” Steve asks, suddenly he feeling himself going soft again, like he used to around Sodapop. Except this time it’s different, because this time he doesn’t feel like Soda is some kind of god or a person he has to let go of his own wellbeing for. No, this time it feels like Soda is his friend, his buddy, a person he would do anything for but someone who would also do the same for him.

“Yeah,” Soda says, so simple but Steve knows there’s more he’s leaving unspoken. It’ll take some time, but in the end he and Soda just might be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm glad I'm done with this but i am pretty happy with how it turned out, especially the last part because i feel like the characters grew a lot during the course of the story which is what i hoped for when i started writing it. anyways i know no one cares so have a great day and try to have some fun during quarantine!  
> <3


End file.
